


Want to Annoy Your Family This Thanksgiving? Call Skye!

by DeceitfulHonesty



Series: Want To Annoy Your Family This Thanksgiving? Call Skye! [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Based on the viral craigslist ad, F/F, Family Dinner, Holidays, Homophobia, Lance and Jemma as Siblings, Minor Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse, Original Characters are Jemmas family members, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 18:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5302952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeceitfulHonesty/pseuds/DeceitfulHonesty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I’m a 25 year old, unemployed hacker with no high school degree who lives in a van that’s older than me. If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Thanksgiving, but pretend to be in a serious, committed relationship with you to irritate your family, I’m game. I require no pay but the free meal I’ll get as a guest and the joy of spending an evening with people I can aggravate! Call Skye."<br/>Based on the Craigslist ad that people love to share this time of year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want to Annoy Your Family This Thanksgiving? Call Skye!

    Jemma hated this time of year. Thanksgiving was coming up and her mom called everyday to ask if she was bringing someone because she “really needs to know so I can set up an extra place at the table.” She also managed to slide in some snide comments about her brother’s perfect fiancée who he was bringing, while Jemma rolled her eyes. Really, her mother was just convinced that Jemma had a secret boyfriend that she was too nervous to introduce to the family and was fishing for information. Which she really didn’t. Boyfriends weren’t really her forte, and even if they were, Jemma hardly had time to date.

  
    She typed out a quick text to Fitz that simply read ‘SHE CALLED AGAIN’ and flopped backwards on her bed. Jemma really needed some way to get her parents off her back. She brought Fitz to Thanksgiving one year, only because he had no plans and she didn’t want to leave him alone. Her family still hadn’t let her hear the end of it. Jemma was half convinced her mother already booked her and Fitz’s wedding.

  
    The only reason Thanksgiving was celebrated in her family was because her parents did their best to be a ‘quintessential American family’ after they moved from England, so Jemma wasn’t spared the torture of this particular holiday.

  
    Jemma’s phone chirped beside her and showed a text from Fitz that just said, “lol.” Jemma sighed and tossed the phone across the bed. She lay there for a few moments, trying to think of the least painful way to deflect the invasive questioning she was sure to hear in a few days’ time.

  
    Suddenly, her phone chirped again. She rolled over to retrieve it and saw another message from Fitz, this one saying ‘I’ve got an idea!!’ Before Jemma could type out a response, another message came through, with a screen shot of a Craigslist personal ad:  
    Want to annoy your family this Thanksgiving? Tired of answering questions about your love life?

  
_I’m a 25 year old, unemployed hacker with no high school degree who lives in a van that’s older than me. If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Thanksgiving, but pretend to be in a serious, committed relationship with you to irritate your family, I’m game._

  
_I can do all/any of these things at your request:_

  
_Openly hit on other guests while you pretend not to notice_

  
_Start instigative discussions about politics and religion_

  
_Pretend to be really drunk and/or drink all the wine in the house (I have a ridiculously high tolerance, don’t worry)_

  
_Start an actual physical fight with a family member on the front lawn for all the neighbors to see_

  
_Show off my hacking abilities and ‘accidentally’ add a relative to the FBI’s watch list (only if you really hate a particular relative, the FBI doesn’t screw around)_

  
_I require no pay but the free meal I’ll get as a guest and the joy of spending an evening with people I can aggravate! Call Skye_

  
    Jemma read through the ad twice, just to be sure she gleaned what Fitz was implying by sending this to her. The idea seemed completely ridiculous, yet absolutely perfect. There was no way she could go through with it. But it would get her free of the incessant questioning. There was no way. Should she?

  
    Fitz seemed to be reading her mind from wherever he was and a message popped up that said ‘DO IT!’ Before she could over think it, Jemma punched in the number and hit the call button.

  
    The phone rang twice and Jemma nearly panicked and hung up, before a sleep addled voice answered.

  
    “Hullo?” the voice asked. Jemma started. She wasn’t expecting Skye to be a woman.

  
    “Um, hello. Is this Skye?” Jemma questioned.

  
    “Depends, who’s asking?” the voice mumbled.

  
    Jemma pursed her lips. Maybe this was a bad idea. “I saw your ad on Craigslist? The one about Thanksgiving?”

  
    “Oh shit, sorry,” the woman responded, “Yeah, this is Skye. You got some family you want to annoy?”

  
    Jemma rolled her eyes, “You could say that. My mother hasn’t stopped calling to ask if I’m bringing someone.”

  
    Jemma could practically hear the smile in the other woman’s voice, “Well, you should tell her you are.”

  
~~~~~~  
    Jemma agreed to meet Skye at a nearby coffee shop while on her lunch break, so they could plan the dinner (and also so Jemma could make sure she wasn’t a murderer or something). She dragged Fitz away from his work for moral support, since he got her into this situation.

  
    “Can you stop bouncing your leg? You’re making me sea-sick,” Fitz grumbled as he picked at a bagel.

  
    Jemma glared at him, but crossed her legs to stop herself from jostling them, “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous to be meeting someone I found online. It seems a bit dangerous.”

  
    “That’s why we picked a public place, right? If she’s an axe murderer, we’ve got lots of witnesses,” Fitz replied nonchalantly.

  
    Jemma rolled her eyes. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what were you doing in the personal ads, anyway?”

  
    Fitz choked on his coffee, but was spared from responding by the chime of the door. Jemma’s gaze shot to the figure who walked in the door. She was dressed rather sharply in a nice button up and skinny jeans and her long, dark hair was tied back with a few loose tendrils framing her face. Jemma could feel her face flush as she took in the attractive stranger, until her gaze settled on the _Hello my name is: Skye_ name tag stuck to the woman’s chest. Oh no. 

  
    Skye spotted her staring and sauntered over to their table.

  
    “Are you… Jemma Simmons by chance?” she asked.

  
    Jemma shot out of her chair and stuck her hand out, “Yes, and you must be Skye. Pleasure to meet you.”

  
    Skye seemed a bit nervous as she took Jemma’s offered hand, but she shook it and then pulled a chair over to their table and plopped down. Jemma mirrored her movement, perhaps sitting a bit more stiffly than would be expected. She caught Skye’s eyes appraising her and tried to relax her stance a bit.

  
    “Oh, this is my friend, Fitz,” Jemma blurted, remembering that she had yet to introduce him.

  
    “Nice to meet you, Fitz,” Skye said.

  
    “Likewise, uh Skye…?” Fitz prodded.

  
    “Just Skye, no last name. So, Jemma, introduce me to your family, please,” Skye prompted with a smile.

  
    “Right,” Jemma muttered. She tried not to be concerned about the "no last name" thing. She slid a large family photo out of the folder she brought for this occasion (because, if nothing else, Jemma excelled at preparation). Skye raised an eyebrow, but took the photo and scooted her chair closer to Jemma’s.

  
    “Ok, so that’s my mother, Evelyn. She’s the director of St. George’s Hospital downtown. That’s my father, Henry. He’s a politician. I generally don’t ask about his work if I can avoid it. They’re both determined that their children will have the ‘white-picket fence’ life and at least one degree,” Jemma dictated.

  
    Skye snorted, “So, they’re probably not the type to approve of their daughter bringing another girl to Thanksgiving, right?”

  
    “Likely not. They don’t even know that I’m—” Jemma clapped a hand over her mouth. She definitely had not meant to almost slip that to a total stranger. The fact that her Thanksgiving date was a woman was a fluke, not intentional. Not that Jemma minded.

  
    Skye just laughed, “Is this really the way you want to have that conversation? ‘Cause the cat’s probably going to be out of the bag after this.”

  
    “Oh dear, I hadn’t thought about that,” Jemma mused. The lack of judgement from Skye was comforting at least. Though she supposed a woman who lived in her van and rented out herself as an annoyance had very little room to judge anyone’s preferences. Jemma shrugged, “Honestly, that conversation will probably not go well, regardless of how we have it, so might as well make it count.”

  
    A devilish grin slid across Skye’s face, “I like the way you think. So, who are the rest of these people?”

  
    “Oh, right,” Jemma turned back to the photo and pointed out her brother, “That’s my older brother, Lance. And the blonde is his fiancée, Bobbi, who my mother is just as in love with as Lance,” Jemma rolled her eyes.

  
    “Alright, so how far do we want to take this holiday-ruining? Because I’m pretty sure I could seduce her into dumping him,” Skye stated.

  
    “Unlikely, believe me,” Jemma replied, leaving the _I’ve tried_ unsaid.

  
    “You underestimate me,” Skye winked.

  
    Jemma flushed and turned back to the photo. She finished by introducing her grandmother, while venting about past family holidays. Skye seemed to be taking dutiful mental notes and offered a few suggestions to Jemma for approval of irritating things she could do. Once Fitz was convinced that Skye wasn’t here to murder them, he made an excuse to head back to work, while Jemma stayed to continue her plotting.

  
    “Ok so, definitely flirt with the fiancée, complain about Republicans, et cetera. How do you feel about tacky pet names?” Skye asked.  
    Jemma chuckled, “Sure. We have to sell the relationship somehow.”

  
    “Perfect. I’ve got some good ones saved up,” Skye joked, tapping her temple.

  
    Jemma smiled, “Well, I think we’ve got a perfect horrible Thanksgiving planned out. If you don’t mind me asking, why aren’t you celebrating with your family?”

  
    Skye shrugged, “Don’t really have a family. I grew up in the foster system and got out ASAP. Holidays are usually pretty boring so I figured I could try to crash someone else’s.”

  
    “Oh. I’m so sorry,” Jemma consoled.

  
    “It’s no big. Plus, I get to do something more fun than sitting through a torturous family dinner like you have to,” Skye replied, brushing her off.

  
    “Well, at least this particular dinner will be far more eventful than normal,” Jemma noted.

  
    “That’s true,” Skye agreed, “I really wanted to meet up with you first so you know I’m not as much of a psycho as I’m going to pretend to be. I can act somewhat normal when I want to,” Skye’s tone was playful, but she seemed reserved suddenly.

  
    Jemma smiled and placed her hand over Skye’s comfortingly, “Of all the people who have offered to annoy my family, you’re definitely the most normal.”

  
    “I bet you say that to all the girls,” Skye teased, “I probably should let you get back to work, though.”

  
    “Right, I probably should go back at some point today. I’ll see you Thursday?” Jemma inquired.

  
    Skye smiled as she headed towards the door, “I’ll pick you up at 5.”

  
    “Dinner starts at 4, though.”

  
    “Exactly.”

  
~~~~~~~

  
    After a lot of debate through texts, Jemma managed to convince Skye to pick her up closer to the actual time of the dinner. Regardless, Jemma was completely ready long before she needed to be, even though she changed shirts about four times. After fretting over whether or not to wear a cardigan, she realized bringing her fake, unemployed, technically homeless girlfriend to dinner would probably be the focus of the evening and gave up changing her outfit. She spent the extra time flitting around her apartment, trying to keep her hands busy and her mind off the looming dinner.

  
    At 3:30 sharp, Jemma heard a small knock on her front door and sprinted to answer it. The Skye that stood on the other side could not have been more contrasting to the Skye she had met at the coffee shop. This Skye had her hair loose and wild and dark, smoky makeup highlighted her eyes and….oh my God, was she wearing leather pants?

  
    “Happy Thanksgiving, pretend girlfriend,” Skye said, holding out a bouquet of flowers.

  
    “They’re lovely, thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” Jemma replied, taking the flowers and motioning Skye inside.

  
    “I figured your family might hate both of us after tonight, so they’re an apology-in-advance gift,” Skye said.

  
    “Well, it was very thoughtful,” Jemma replied, “You look...very nice.”

  
    Skye smirked and gave a little twirl, “You think it’s sufficiently Parent Irritating Chic?”

  
    “Oh, is that the new trend? I thought you were just trying to wear more leather at once than I have ever owned” Jemma joked.

  
    “You’re missing out. Leather is very good at convincing people that you’re up to no good,” Skye winked.

  
    After Jemma found a vase for the flowers, she locked up and headed down to Skye’s van. She was really not kidding about it being ancient. She must know a good mechanic because Jemma wasn’t entirely convinced that it should be functional by anything other than a miracle of engineering.

  
    The drive to Jemma’s parent’s house was mostly uneventful. They talked about everything from music to computers and, before Jemma would have liked, they were sitting in front of the house. Jemma took a shaky breath and hopped out of the van. She really hoped this wasn’t a bad idea.

  
    Skye met her around the side of the van and held out an arm for Jemma to loop hers through.

  
    “Remember our safe word, okay? If you want me to stop being obnoxious at any point, just say it,” Skye mumbled into her ear as they approach the door.

  
    Jemma nodded, “Manscaping. I remember.”

  
    They finally reached the door and rang the bell. No turning back now.

  
    The door swung open and Jemma’s mother stood behind it a polite smile on her face as she saw Jemma. A smile that promptly disappeared when her eyes landed on Skye.

  
    “Happy Thanksgiving, mother!” Jemma greeted, “This is Skye. My girlfriend.”

  
    Her mother’s eyes had yet to leave Skye, who just stood there with a cocky smirk on her face. Jemma cleared her throat to jolt her mother out of her shock.

  
    “O-Oh! How...nice. Nice to meet you, Skye,” Evelyn stuttered out.

  
    “Sup, doc?” Skye replied, slapping her hand into Evelyn’s and shaking it harshly. Jemma thought her mother’s face nearly made this whole idea worth it.

  
    Once Evelyn recovered, she beckoned the both of them inside and silently led them into the living room. Jemma kept her arm firmly wrapped around Skye’s. They needed to sell the idea that they were in a long-term relationship. It had nothing to do with the fact that Skye was warm and smelled nice.

  
    Jemma’s grandmother had yet to get there, so the only people in the living room were her father, Lance, and Bobbi. Evelyn introduced Skye to the room with forced cheerfulness. Henry said nothing, but his eyes went wide and darted between Jemma and Skye, as if trying to decipher how such a relationship would work. Lance leaned over to Bobbi and Jemma swore she heard him say, “Pay up,” and he held out a hand to Bobbi, which she slapped away.

  
    Skye turned to Jemma, “Your brother’s got good taste,” she mumbled just loud enough to be heard by the room at large. Bobbi raised an eyebrow, but no one else made a comment.

  
    “So, have long have you two been dating?” Bobbi asked, to break the silence.

  
    Jemma blanched and turned to Skye. They completely forgot to get their stories straight. Skye put a hand on Jemma’s thigh, just a little too high to be considered decent, and gave her a comforting smile. Jemma’s, along with half of the eyes in the room, redirected to the hand on her thigh like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

  
    “About 3 months,” Skye replied, “Actually, how we met is a pretty funny story. So, I’m getting chased down the street by three cops and a bank teller, and—”

  
    The doorbell rang, interrupting whatever story Skye had concocted, to the apparent chagrin of Lance. Evelyn lurched out of her seat and practically ran to the door. Skye shrugged and mumbled a “maybe later” and the room slid into awkward silence. Jemma could hear her grandmother, Helen’s voice greeting her mother and then her mother’s frantic whispering as they walked towards the living room.

     
    Everyone greeted the matriarch warmly, as she entered the room and started handing trays of desserts to Bobbi and Lance to put in the kitchen. She gave everyone a quick hug and kiss, before finally rounding on Jemma.

  
    “So, Jemma, your mom tells me you’re one of those lesbians now,” Helen said, patting Jemma on the cheek.

  
    “Mom!”

  
    “Grandma!”

  
    “What? Is it because you can’t find a husband at your job? You’re far too pretty to be a lesbian,” Helen continued.

  
    Skye threw an arm around Jemma’s neck, “Tell me about. Lucky for me, that ass is all mine. Hey, Gramms, Skye, Jemma’s girlfriend.”  
    The collective intake of breath from the room was audible, but Skye seemed unperturbed. Helen gave Skye an appraising look, but shook her hand graciously.

  
    “Are we ready to eat?” Evelyn questioned loudly. Everyone nodded in assent and started heading into the dining room. Skye caught Jemma’s eye and gave her a wink as she followed the family.

  
    Somehow, though she suspected some skillful planning of Skye’s was involved, Skye ended up sitting between Jemma and Bobbi, while Lance was stuck across the table, next to Evelyn, looking peeved. Evelyn started bring over the trays of food and thrust a bottle of wine into Jemma’s hand to distribute.

  
    “Skye, would you like some wine?” Jemma asked politely.

  
    “Fuck yes!”

  
    Evelyn nearly dropped the plate she was holding. Jemma poured a glass out, trying to hide a laugh, and slid it over to Skye. Before Jemma had a chance to ask anyone else, Skye threw back the entire glass like a cheap shot, and slammed her glass on the table. Lance looked impressed, while Henry seemed appalled. Jemma forgot to tell Skye her dad was a wine nut.

  
    Once the table was set, Jemma’s parents seemed determined to keep the conversation as far from Skye as possible. She didn’t seem to mind, as she was living up to her plan of trying to seduce Bobbi. Bobbi initially was doing her best to ignore Skye, but whatever she was whispering into Bobbi’s ear seemed to be changing her mind and was unconsciously leaning in to Skye and fidgeting with her hair. Lance had obviously noticed and was silently fuming across the table and, apparently, trying to burn a hole through Skye’s skull with his eyes. Evelyn seemed to have noticed his distress and her eyes were darting between Skye and Jemma, trying to catch Jemma’s eye and send her a _DO SOMETHING_ look.

  
    Jemma was distracted from both her tiny flare of jealousy at Bobbi and her mother’s attempts to get her to intervene by Skye’s hand creeping up the back of her neck. Her fingers ran through the hair at the base of Jemma’s neck, deftly multitasking flirting with Bobbi while showing that she was with Jemma, and it was driving Jemma crazy. She made sure to keep the wine bottle nearby for easy access to refills.

  
    “So, Skye, what did you think about the Republican Presidential debate?” Henry asked.

  
    _Here we go._ Jemma downed the rest of her wine.

  
    “Oh, they’re all a bunch of idiots,” Skye announced with disgust.

  
    Henry rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me: You’re a Democrat.”

  
    “Henry—” Evelyn started.

  
    “Anarchist, actually. I think we should take the whole political system down and start over, with people with _real_ skills in power,” Skye shot back.

  
    “I think it’s time for dessert. Is everyone done with their plates? Skye, help me get the dishes,” Jemma rambled jumping out of her chair.

  
    “Right behind you, sugar tits,” Skye answered, smacking Jemma on the ass. Jemma’s squeak of surprise of masked by the sound of four forks clattering onto plates.

  
    Jemma grabbed as many plates as she could and hurried into the kitchen, quickly covering up her laughter with the running water from the sink. She hated her family’s choice in conversations usually, but seeing their reactions to Skye tonight was making it a bit better. She scraped the scraps of food into the trash can before starting to wash off the plates.

  
    “Was that too far?” Skye’s voice came from directly behind her.

  
    “Shit!” Jemma jumped and spun around. Skye was barely inches away, leaning in conspiratorially.

  
    “No, it was fine. It’s actually rather fun, as far as family holidays go,” Jemma replied, still catching her breath.

  
    “Okay, I was nervous with how you ran out of there,” Skye admitted. The cocky persona she had on around Jemma’s family was replaced by a concerned expression.

  
    She was still standing far too close. And she was really beautiful, even with the excessive dark makeup, “I was just afraid I was going to start laughing at my family’s facial expressions.”

  
    Skye chuckled, “I know how you feel. So, the PDA wasn’t too much? I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?”

  
    Blame it on the four glasses of wine she had downed in the last half hour or the constant touches from Skye all night that made her unable to think straight, but suddenly Jemma found herself grabbing Skye by the front of her shirt and pulling her forward to capture her lips with her own. Skye made a surprised sound in her mouth, but made no move to pull away. Jemma swiped her tongue across Skye’s lips and Skye took the invitation to part her lips and deepen the kiss. Jemma felt the edge of the sink dig into her back as Skye pressed her body closer to Jemma and dug her hands into Jemma’s hair. When Skye caught Jemma’s lower lip between her teeth, Jemma couldn’t help the tiny moan that slipped out of her mouth. Jemma didn’t know how long they had been tangled together, but she could stay like this all night.

  
    Unfortunately, the universe had other plans. An exaggerated cough from the other end of the kitchen made them jerk apart. Jemma caught a quick flash of her mother holding the pie before she hurried out of the kitchen.

  
    Jemma groaned before meeting Skye’s eyes. Her pupils were dilated and her cheeks were flushed. If her hair could have been any more wild than it was Jemma was sure it would be. She was sure she was in a similar state herself.

  
    “We should probably get back,” Jemma lamented. Skye just nodded still out of breath. She started to pull away before realizing that Jemma’s hands were still gripping her shirt like a vice. Jemma blushed and let go with a quick “sorry.”

  
    “I’m not,” Skye admitted, “Um...any chance we could do that again?” she asked sheepishly. Jemma just smiled and shoved Skye back towards the dining room.

  
    When they got back to their seats, Evelyn refused to meet either of their eyes. Skye’s smug persona slipped easily back on, but she slid her hand into Jemma’s under the table. Jemma tried to tune into the current conversation, while Skye went back to flirting with Bobbi, causing Lance to stab his pumpkin pie with a bit more force than necessary.

  
    Everything seemed civil until Jemma heard the phrase, “All these homosexuals nowadays,” slip out of her grandmother’s mouth. Skye froze and leaned over to Jemma.

  
    “You ready to leave yet?” Skye whispered. Jemma nodded discreetly in reply.

  
    Skye got a wicked glint in her eye, “Good. What was that about ‘the homosexuals?’”

  
    “I was saying there’s so many of them now! I don’t know where this trend came from, but there weren’t any gays when I was growing up,” Helen stated.

  
    “Yeah, because they would regularly get murdered for existing back then and no one did anything,” Skye spat. Jemma filled up her wine glass again.

  
    Helen plowed on, apparently not hearing her, “I think it’s all these gays on TV now, kids are thinking it’s cool. Also, why do they need to get married now?”

  
    “Because they want their significant other to be able to visit them in the hospital while they’re dying of AIDs,” Skye growled.

  
    “Why not let everyone get married, then? What’s next, should a man be able to marry his dog?”

  
    “Because two consenting adults have the same legal decision-making power as a domesticated animal—”

  
    “I just think it ruins marriage for the rest of us.”

  
    “You know what?” Skye slammed her hands on the table and lurched to her feet, “Fight me, Helen. You and me, front yard. Right now.”

  
    Jemma took the flurry of “whoa’s” and “let’s not lose our heads” as her cue.

  
    “We probably should get going. You know, early day tomorrow and all,” Jemma announced grabbing Skye by the arm and dragging her from the room. Before she lost sight of Helen, Skye jerked two fingers towards her eyes and then towards Jemma’s grandmother in the “I’m watching you” gesture.

  
    Luckily, no one followed them as they tumbled into the front yard, barely containing their laughter until the door closed behind them. They jumped into the van and had to sit for a few moments to catch their breath, while still chuckling about her family’s facial expressions.

  
    “I think that was the most entertaining family dinner I’ve been to in a long time,” Jemma wheezed.

  
    “So, I played my part well?” Skye teased.

  
    Jemma nodded, “Very well. Normally, my family isn’t so terrible, so I’m glad I had someone to take some of the pressure off.”

  
    “I can definitely say it was one of the most fun fake dates I’ve been on as well,” Skye replied.

  
    Jemma bit her lip. “Would you like to go on a real date at some point?”

  
    Skye’s face lit up as she looked at Jemma, “Really?”

  
    Jemma rolled her eyes and leaned in for a gentle kiss.

  
~~~~~

  
    The sun was far too bright the next morning. The full bottle of wine from last night probably wasn’t helping the pounding behind her eyes. Despite the hangover, Jemma was more content than she had been in awhile. She stretched out an arm and felt around on her night stand for her phone. Unsurprisingly, her phone was full of messages from her family; mostly her mother, but a few angry ones from Lance as well. She silently perused them before rolling over.    

  
    “Hey, Skye,” Jemma muttered, poking the tangle of blankets and brown hair that she knew was Skye. A low grunt was the only reply she got.

  
    “I have some bad news,” Jemma smirked, “Our plan didn’t work. My grandmother apparently loved you. My mother says the word ‘spunky’ was used numerous times after we left.”

  
    Skye rolled over with the most adorable look of confusion combined with serious bed head, “Huh?”

  
    “Also, you’re invited to Christmas.”

  
    “You have got to be kidding me.”  


**Author's Note:**

> Ok this one was tough but it was also super fun to write. And it's done after Thanksgiving cuz I'm a slacker. My bad. On the upside, I got my writing blog up and running so go follow for updates and things!  
> sad-trash-writing dot tumblr yo


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